Page 110 of So Not My Thing
“I should never have said that. I was thinking after the opening, we can talk this all out. I know it’s crazy right now, but I didn’t want to add to your stress thinking that we were breaking up or something.”
“We aren’t?” He sounded confused.
“Of course not. It was a fight. We’ll figure it out.”
A long pause. “Will we?” he asked softly. “I’m not so sure. The reality of my life is not going to change for a long time. I can’t do anything about it.”
“I know. But I’ll figure out how to live with it.”
An even longer silence.
“Miles?”
He cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Ellie. One thing you learn after being in this industry long enough is that if you have even two people you can count on to ride out the crazy with you, you’ve got a hundred percent more support than most people. And if you count on the wrong people, you get burned.
“Sometimes it’s because they’re self-interested people. Like Aaron. He wasn’t always like this, but I finally had to accept that he’s changed. I can’t count on him anymore. Sometimes it’s because life in the spotlight is too much for people, and it’s not fair to expect them to deal with it. Like you. So I thought I had three people, but I guess I just have Anneke. And one is still more than most people have, so maybe I’m still lucky after all.”
I hated hearing the words. Every single one burned. I hated not being counted as one of his people. I hated the exhaustion in his voice. “Miles, I know this was a bad moment for me to have a breakdown or whatever, but I’ve had some sleep and some advice and now I have clarity. Let’s talk about this on Monday, when you’re through opening weekend.”
He gave a soft sigh. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve lived fifty years instead of twenty-eight. But the upside is that it helps you figure people out sooner than later. You are all the good things, Ellie. But I’ll never be goodforyou. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Miles—”
“I can’t,” he said. “I need to go. See you around some time.”
The call went the kind of quiet that meant he was gone.
I called him back immediately, but he sent me to voicemail. “No, no, no,” I murmured, dialing again. “I need you to pick up. Come on, Miles.” But I got voicemail again.
I got up and paced, trying a few more times. Nothing.
I stared down at my phone. He wasn’t going to pick up. What should I do? Drive over there?
But no. I couldn’t force him to deal with personal drama when the opening was barely twenty-four hours away. He’d been winding tighter and tighter each day for the last week, and the last thing he needed was me showing up and dragging him into a deep talk.
Worse, I realized as I tried to make sense of the acidic feeling in my stomach, I wasn’t sure that even once he got through this weekend, he would want to talk. I might be able to get him to believe that I was truly sorry for accusing him of trying to use me for PR. But for a minute, maybe even a day, I had believed it. And he knew it.
Even if he could forgive me for that, his experiences had taught him that I wouldn’t fit in his life. That I couldn’t and be happy. And he wanted me to be happy. I knew it in every fiber. He would keep me at a distance to make sure I would be.
But that’s not what I wanted. Why could I only see that clearly now that he had given up?
I wanted Miles. I wanted nights at the piano. I wanted hours spent debating light fixtures and cocktail options. I wanted walks on the Crescent Park trail, and I wanted mornings at a table in front of Elizabeth’s Café, eating.
I wanted all of him, and his fame and its baggage...that was a feature, not a bug. It had shaped him. It had enabled him to use his wealth and experience to create new opportunities for other people. He was writing the second act of his life, scripting all of it the way he wanted it, and now he had written me out.
It would take so much more than a conversation to convince him to change his mind, and I had no idea how to do it.
I sat back down at the piano again, mindlessly picking out a tune.You make me new.The words floated through my head. I played the snatch of melody again with the words.You make me new, I’m whole with you.
It was the melody I’d been noodling on the Turnaround piano with Miles, the one whose words wouldn’t come to me, but now I could feel them almost tripping over themselves to get out, and I knew.
I knew how to get through to Miles.
